Brady stood staring at the picture, seemingly entranced by it. There he was before her, how odd, to see him like this. This was him, her father…the man who was responsible for giving her life. And yet…he wasn't really real to her. He had been a ghost in her mind for so long.
She had never seen him before, never been shown a picture of him. The others wanted to protect her, to shelter her. They didn't want to burden her with the identity of her father. But she knew.
She had always known. Zoot, the man that the Locos had followed, the Chosen had worshiped and the Mallrats had killed. He was her father. Even now there were whispers, rumors, murmurings that Zoot would return someday. Some still believed that he was a god…old habits died hard in the city.
Zoot was a touchy subject in the mall; no one had ever wanted to talk about him. Brady had tried a few times to ask questions, to find out more. Her mother wouldn't say a word about him; she just got a sad, distant look on her face whenever Brady brought up the subject. Ebony became angry and lashed out whenever Zoot's name was mentioned. Amber would shake her head and tell her that it was something best left in the past. But now she had his picture.
She had found it in Darryl's room, after he had decided to move to Liberty permanently. It had been tucked away in the bottom of a dresser drawer along with some old makeup. Brady knew that Darryl had something to do with Zoot when the Mallrats rebelled against Mega. He had let a few things slip over the years. Of course, no one else noticed, but Brady was always eager for any scrap of information about her father.
Taking the picture and lovingly placing it on her vanity table, Brady picked up the makeup. The red pencil glided over her cheek as she made the first mark. Next came the black around the eyes. Then she picked up the lipstick that Ebony had given her for her birthday. Red lips added a decidedly feminine touch. Her hair was blond. Like her father's. She found that interesting. She looked like him. Even with his heavy makeup she could tell that they shared the same nose, the same eyes. She had never really felt like her mother's daughter. Now, looking at her father's picture, she knew why. This is what she was meant for. She was supposed to carry on her father's work.
Power and chaos...